Miss
by loveadubdub
Summary: She really means it this time. Boys, dating, all that other stuff?  She's over it.  She has one year of high school left, and she intends to spend it focusing on herself and her future and doing whatever she has to do to get far away from Lima.


**MISS**

…

She really means it this time.

Boys, dating, all that other stuff? She's over it. She has one year of high school left, and she intends to spend it focusing on herself and her future and doing whatever she has to do to get as far away from Lima, Ohio as possible. This year is about _her, _and this time, it's for real.

Santana calls it her _Quinndependence._

That's new, too. The Santana thing. Well, they've been friends before, but even back then, they were friends in the most superficial of ways. They only tolerated each other because it was easier to keep your enemies closer. But it's been a long time since they even _pretended _to be friends. Something changed in New York, though. They came to some kind of agreement, and they're actually getting along pretty well these days. It's a little weird, but it's nice.

So spends most of the summer with Santana and Brittany, and they lay out by the pool and go shopping, and it's just like it used to be. Except maybe more sincere this time. It's fun.

She really likes having friends.

…

The youth group at church is planning a fundraiser so that they can go to a conference in Chicago.

Quinn has no real interest in this because A) she doesn't care for Chicago and B) she doesn't care for about ninety percent of the youth group. So she's less than eager to sign up for whatever bake sale or car wash they're planning this year. Her mom will force her to, of course, but that doesn't mean she'll enjoy it.

But then they announce that they're having a talent show to raise money, and she's a little bit intrigued. She's seen enough Christmas pageants and Easter cantatas to know that talent isn't something the kids in her church possess in spades or anything. So it might be fun to watch the disaster that this will inevitably turn into.

"Maybe it'll make more money than the Night of Neglect." Sam leans across the table to whisper to her, and she smiles at him. That was a disaster, and while this one will surely have more of a turnout, she can't wait to see how fantastically _terrible _the whole thing will be.

She already knows she'll get talked into performing. She doesn't mind so much. She likes singing, and she's not scared or anything. Plus, she's totally going to make Sam sing with her, whether he wants to or not.

After all, they are award winning duet partners.

…

Her mother goes on a _date _that Friday.

Quinn honestly hasn't let herself think about either of her parents dating other people. She knows her father's dating someone; it's the entire reason that her parents broke up in the first place. But since she hasn't actually _seen _her father in more than a year, she's been able to ignore that thought process. She certainly hasn't given any thought to her mother moving on and starting to date. But the doorbell rings on Friday, and some middle-aged man with a receding hairline and too much after-shave is waiting on the other side. He introduces himself as Bill, and Quinn watches wordlessly as her mother comes downstairs in a dress that's about two sizes too small and ten years too young.

She kisses Quinn on the cheek and tells her that there are leftovers in the fridge and to be careful if she goes out. It's weirder than anything Quinn could imagine, and for a good five minutes after her mom leaves with Bill, she just stands there staring at the door.

Then she texts Santana and asks if anyone's having a party.

…

She's never been a big drinker.

She's spent a good portion of her high school career at parties, sure (the other portion, she spent pregnant), but she's never been a huge drinker, and she's never done any kind of drugs. She'll drink occasionally, but she has a really low tolerance. That could explain why a few wine coolers resulted in a baby, but she doesn't like to remember that.

One thing's for sure, though, her temper rages out of control when she's drunk.

She knows this. She also knows that a good majority of the McKinley population views her as a bitch on her good days. When she's drunk, she turns absolutely _evil, _and it's not like she needs help ruining her reputation these days. Of course, the fact that her reputation is already ruined beyond repair sort of gives her an excuse to drink as much as she wants. Or at least that's what she tells herself when she finds herself drinking her fourth cup of whatever purple mixture Santana's shoved into her hand.

She's over Finn. Really. She didn't _really _want him in the first place. She was just trying to hold onto some part of her popularity, and he was the best option she had to accomplish that. But now she's past that. Her independence has been stated, and she doesn't need Finn Hudson or any other boy to define her.

But that doesn't mean she hates Rachel Berry any less.

She doesn't know what Rachel's doing at this party. Rachel doesn't go to parties. The only time she's ever seen her at one was the one she threw in her own basement. She's willing to bet that that was the first and only time Rachel ever tasted alcohol because she's absolutely _wasted _right now. She's laughing too loudly at something that's probably not even remotely funny.

"What is _she _doing here?" Quinn asks hatefully, and Santana follows her line of sight across the room where Rachel's cracking up and making herself right at home in a group of girls who have probably made fun of her since first grade.

"Hopefully she's about to get her ass kicked." Santana isn't a nice drunk, either. Santana's never nice, but the only thing that changes when she's intoxicated is the chance of her randomly bursting into tears.

Rachel comes up to them maybe fifteen minutes later. She's giggling and sipping at the same purple drink that's currently in Quinn's cup. She smiles at them like they're her best friends and practically bounces on her feet when she cheerily says, "Hi!"

"Who invited you here?" Quinn doesn't waste time with the small talk. She may not be the most popular girl in school anymore, but a mean girl streak is hard to break.

"I came with Finn." Rachel's smile falters for half a second, and she glances around. "I don't know where he is."

"He probably ditched you." Quinn doesn't feel remotely bad about the way Rachel's face drops. "His attention span sucks. He probably left and forgot he even brought you."

She hears Santana snort in what's obviously amusement. Santana hates Rachel, too, though her reasons aren't as easily defined as Quinn's are. Still, they're not friends. Not even remotely. Glee club or not, Rachel Berry should _not _be seeking them out at a party.

Rachel Berry shouldn't even _be _at a party.

…

She doesn't know what to make of the rumors.

In general, she's sort of against gossip. Not because she thinks it's so bad or hurtful or anything, but basically because she knows from experience that so much of it is just _false. _So unless she witnesses something firsthand, she has a hard time believing it. Otherwise, she just has to assume it's only a rumor.

And it's not like she can just go up to Santana and say, _"Hey, are you a gay?"_

Santana has a boyfriend. She's basically _always _had a boyfriend. Or she's at least always had someone to hook up with regularly. She's always had Puck, even when Quinn was living in his house and sleeping in his bedroom. He was still having sex with Santana. Quinn knew about it and cared less than she probably should have. But whatever.

Santana's always had _boys._

She's had Brittany, too, on the side. Their hookups have certainly never been a secret. But Quinn's been around them both long enough to think that she would know if there was actually something there that went beyond just hooking up to impress guys. She's spent years in a locker room with Santana, and she's never seen her staring at any of the other girls or trying to look up their Cheerio skirts. There should be a sign or something, some kind of _hint. _But there's really never been anything. So Quinn will just assume it's all made up.

But then she starts noticing how sad Santana looks every time Brittany's not paying attention, and she wonders if maybe there's some truth to it.

…

Sam agrees to sing with her.

She doesn't have to twist his arm or try too hard or anything. She just asks him, and he says okay. Then they start arguing over what to sing, and she thinks it's kind of cute how he's expressing his opinion in a way that hints that he might even remotely win. She knows he'll give in and do whatever she wants. He's just that kind of guy. He's always done pretty much _everything _she's ever asked him to do.

He asks her when she wants to practice, and they agree to meet at her house on Thursday. He tells her that he might have to bring the kids, and she says that's fine. They can set them up downstairs with the big screen and the Playstation that no one ever plays. She's not even really sure why they own the thing, but it's there, and she knows it'll keep them occupied.

She tells him to bring his guitar, and he tells her to bring her voice. And that's that.

…

She runs into Finn at the grocery store, and she tries to pretend like she doesn't see him.

He's there with his mom and Kurt, and she's there by herself looking for stuff to make strawberry shortcake with. Avoidance doesn't work because even though Finn might be just as interested in ignoring her as she is him, Kurt doesn't quite fall into the same category. He calls her name from the other side of the produce section. She wants to glare at him, but she knows better. She puts on a very fake smile and waves at them.

She goes over to talk to them because it's the polite thing to do, but she doesn't miss the way Mrs. Hudson (_Hummel, _her brain corrects) looks at her. She knows she's never exactly gotten back on her good side ever since the whole pregnancy thing... Still, she wonders if Mrs. Hummel knows that her son makes a habit of dumping girls at _funerals. _That should at least win her back a few points.

Kurt seems to know _exactly _what type of awkward drama he's setting them up for, and she wouldn't remotely put it past him do have done this on purpose. He glances back and forth between Finn and her quickly, and then he puts on some big smile and says, "So, Quinn. How's your summer?"

"It's great." She keeps her own fake smile planted firmly across her face. "I saw Rachel the other night," she says casually. "At Joy Baylor's party. She was looking for you, Finn."

"What party?"

And that would be his mom. Maybe they're not supposed to be at parties. She hopes so. She's just petty enough to hope that he ends up in trouble, even though that's stupid.

Still, maybe he shouldn't have fucked her over quite so badly.

…

"Did you know Gwen Martin hired that Mexican boy who works for the Battlemans? He's supposed to be _planting her rose garden."_

Quinn listens as her mother talks about David Perez in what can only be considered a scandalous manner. She's completely ignoring the fact that A) David Perez is basically as American as they are and probably not even Mexican by descent and B) while there are plenty of 'gardeners' doing _work_ on the side, David Perez is not one of them.

"I saw Finn today," she interrupts the half-racist tirade. "He was with his mom. I was nice to him."

Her mom's sipping on vodka tonic, which is certainly not a surprise. She rarely drinks anything else. She smiles, though, a perfect golden smile perfected by years in the pageant circuit and her own run of high school royalty. Judy Fabray is still beautiful. Quinn wonders if she will still be beautiful in twenty-five years or if her natural bad graces will win out.

"That's great, honey." Her mom very clearly doesn't care, but she's careful not to make it too obvious. "I'm glad that you can be the bigger person."

"Finn's like... six and a half feet tall"." She knows that's not at all what her mother is referring to, but she still finds amusement when she just gets a smile and a lazy nod in response.

Perhaps she should take up drinking- obliviousness works wonders for her mother.

…

Sam comes over on Thursday and brings his brother and sister.

Stacy's beyond thrilled to see Quinn and practically leaps on her the second they're inside the house. It's been awhile since they've actually hung out, but she still sees all the Evans kids at church regularly. Stacy acts like it's been four years, though, instead of just four days. She immediately starts asking all kinds of questions about whether she can paint her nails and if there's any ice cream in the house. Sam tries to calm her down a little bit, but Quinn just laughs because it's cute and Stacy's sweet.

She gets both of the kids chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, and then they set them up down in the basement with the Playstation, the DVD collection, and six bottles of OPI (specifically for Stacy, of course).

When they go back upstairs to clean up, she dips a spoon directly into the ice cream carton and licks it clean. She offers it to Sam, and he just kind of looks at her in amusement and shakes his head.

"One bite of ice cream isn't going to kill the abs," she says teasingly, punching him lightly in the stomach as she drops the spoon into the sink.

"No, but one bite of _chocolate _might put me in the hospital with hives."

She looks at him, trying to see if he's joking. She can tell he's not.

"You're allergic to chocolate?"

"Yeah."

How did she never know that? They dated for months.

Maybe she doesn't need her mom's vodka to capture the obliviousness.

…

She sees him again at church on Sunday.

He sits down beside her in their Sunday School class, which isn't all that out of the ordinary. He's the only one she actually considers a _friend _around here, and she's practically the only person he _knows. _They've always sort of gravitated towards each other at church- while they were dating and afterward. There were a few weeks of awkwardness after they broke up, but it didn't last too long.

Sam's far too nice and far too forgiving to hold a grudge for too long.

Their teacher is talking about the upcoming youth conference, but she's not really paying attention. She's watching Sam draw a picture of a cow. She has no idea _why _he's drawing a picture of a cow, but when he looks up and catches her watching, they both laugh, and she literally has to put a hand over her mouth to keep from drawing attention. He's such a dork.

When they're on their way back down to the sanctuary for the service, she asks him if he wants to get together after church and practice.

"Uh," he kind of hesitates, which fully gives away the fact that he's caught off-guard and trying to think on his face. "I can't," he says finally. "I have to... do something."

She stares at him because he's _clearly _hiding something, and he's not nearly a proficient enough liar to come up with something on the spur of the moment. She doesn't know what he's hiding or why he _needs _to hide anything, but it's probably not her place to question it.

"Okay..." she says slowly. "What about tomorrow?"

"Yeah, maybe." Then he smiles at her, and she has no idea what's going through his head. "I'll call you, okay?"

She just nods dumbly as he waves and heads off to join his family.

…

"Oh, my god, why are you sweating Sam?"

Santana's dressed in what can barely even be _called _a bikini, and she's laying out in a chair beside the pool with a pair of huge sunglasses and a glass of her mom's fresh squeezed lemonade. Quinn shields her eyes and squints as she turns her head to look at her.

"I'm not _sweating _him," she says defensively. "He's just acting weird."

"He's probably got a girlfriend or something." Santana shrugs like it's not a big deal, and it's _not, _of course, but it still makes Quinn feel a little something.

"He doesn't _know _any girls besides us," Quinn points out, mostly just to make herself feel better. But it's the truth. Sam's not exactly popular, and his circle of friends and acquaintances doesn't really reach much further than glee. And every girl in glee club is either taken or laying out by this very pool. Except for Mercedes, but he's not dating _Mercedes._

Santana has that queen bitch smirk on her face, though, and she just shrugs. "Maybe he's secretly dating one of us."

"Not me," Brittany speaks up immediately. Then she rolls onto her stomach and puts her earbuds in, blocking out the rest of the conversation she clearly has no interest in.

"Not me, either," Santana says. "And not you, obviously." Quinn just stares at her, not liking the smug look on her face one bit. "Maybe he's secretly banging Rachel."

Quinn literally feels herself gag a little bit at just the thought. "Ew," she says, totally disgusted. "Shut up."

Santana just laughs and shrugs before reaching for her lemonade and lying back in her chair.

…

When Sam _does _call her, it's Wednesday.

He tells her that he's got the whole day free and asks if she wants to hang out and practice. She says okay because she's not doing anything, either, but she's secretly sort of pissed off that he hasn't bothered to get in touch until now.

When he shows up at her house with his guitar in tow, she can't shake the mental image of him and Rachel, and she literally wants to _punch _Santana for putting it there. It's disgusting. Like seriously just about the grossest thing she can imagine, outside of Puck and Lauren maybe.

She asks where his brother and sister are, and he tells her that they're at a birthday party. "They couldn't really take a gift, but hopefully the kid will be too hopped up on cake and ice cream to like notice or whatever..." He laughs a little like he's making a joke, but he's not.

He has a lot of problems discussing his family's situation without trying to interject some kind of humor into it. But it's usually ill-placed and transparent. She knows it's probably just because he's embarrassed, even though she's told him approximately a billion times not to be. It's easier said than done, though. He feels like an outcast, like everyone is constantly judging him.

She can relate.

They work on their song, and she thinks it's kind of amazing how talented he is. He's really great on his guitar. Puck's good, too, but Sam plays it with more a quiet ease than Puck does. Puck thinks he's a rock star in the making, while Sam seems to think he's on a farm half the time. One's not better than the other. They're just different.

"Are you going to study music in college?"

They've got one year of school left. College is on everyone's mind. Or at least it should be. But Sam just kind of shrugs.

"I probably won't go."

He doesn't say he probably won't be _able _to go. And he doesn't say that they won't be able to afford it. All of those things are just understood, and it makes her sad to hear him reference it at all.

"You have to go to college, Sam. _Everyone _does."

But he shrugs again and looks down to tighten one of his strings.

…

She seriously cannot believe Puck _still _works at Sheets 'N Things.

He's worked here for over a year, part-time at least. During the school year, he basically only picked up Saturday nights and maybe a Sunday afternoon shift. He's putting in more hours during the summer, though, which is clearly leaving less time for his pool cleaning/prostitution ring.

She runs into him while he's working one day. Her mom's redoing the guest bathroom and drags her along on the shopping trip. Puck's there stocking bath mats, and he looks up when she and her mom head down his aisle. He gives them the patented chin lift in acknowledgment, and her mom just smiles sweetly and pretends like he _didn't _get her pregnant and nearly ruin her whole life.

Then she mentions that she has to use the restroom, and leaves them there alone together.

"Where have you been all summer?" Quinn pretends to be looking at trashcans while he folds the mats and and stacks them carefully onto the shelf.

He looks at her like he's stupid and then holds up one of the bathmats as evidence. "Um, working."

It _was _kind of a stupid question, but she seriously hasn't seen him at all since school let out. "Are you guys hiring?"

"Why? You need a job?" He smirks and seems way too amused by the prospect. She wants to hit him.

"I thought Sam might," she snips, giving up on pretending to browse and just crossing her arms pointedly.

Puck kind of rolls his eyes and shrugs all at the same time. "Sam's been MIA for awhile now. And anyway, I thought he was doing the pizza thing?"

"He only gets to work a few hours a week."

It's interesting to note, though, that she is not the only one who has noticed Sam's mysterious new monopolized schedule.

…

"Why are you so mean to Rachel?"

The question grabs her totally off-guard as she sits down in her basement with a can of Diet-Coke and Sam lazily tuning his guitar. She knows she made some passing insult awhile ago, but she honestly cannot remember what it was. She has no idea why he's bringing it back up _now _or why he gives a crap about Rachel.

"Because she deserves it." It seems like as fitting an answer as needed.

"She's not that bad." Quinn just stares at him, and he carefully avoids eye contact. "I mean, she's kind of nice."

"She's clearly never wanted your boyfriend before."

He looks up then, and she catches the quick grin he shoots her before he says, "Clearly."

They sit in silence for a little while after that. He keeps tugging on strings, tightening and loosening, and she keeps painting her nails a light shade of purple. But then he speaks up again, and his slight amusement from a few seconds ago is gone. He sounds weirdly serious.

"Finn's wanted my girlfriend before." She won't look at him, no matter how badly she wants to see whatever expression he's wearing right now. "It sucks. Maybe they deserve each other."

She _does _look up at that. "Finn may deserve a lot of things, but being stuck with that troll is not one of them."

She realizes she sounds just like Santana, and that thought scares her for a second.

"She's not that bad."

It's the second time in as many seconds as he's said it, and she just wants to know. She asks before she can stop herself. "Are you like secretly dating her or something?"

She looks up to see Sam staring at her in disbelief and/or shock. Then he laughs and shakes his head. "Um, no. She has a boyfriend. I don't do that."

He doesn't have to come out and say it. She hears it there behind his statement loud and clear. She cheated on him. He would never have done that to her. He's a better person than her.

He's probably a better person than all of them.

…

The benefit ends up raising more than enough money for the Chicago trip.

The church is literally packed, and every single seat is full. It's mostly just church members and family members of the youth group, but it's kind of sad that a group of virtually talentless kids can bring in this many people when the glee benefit couldn't bring in anyone. Not even their parents.

She and Sam perform sixth, right after Leanne Cunningham's embarrassing ballet solo and right before Bridget Hamilton's equally tortuous piano solo. To say that she and Sam are the best and, by far, the highlight of the entire show would be a very huge understatement. She's not even being conceited. It's just the truth.

Her mom makes them pose for pictures when it's over, and she takes so many that you'd think they were going to prom or something. The thought makes her stiffen a little bit because she _could _have gone to prom with Sam. He would never have gotten into a stupid fight and gotten kicked out. He would have stayed by her side the whole night, and when she lost prom queen, he would have just danced with her and told her she was beautiful in some made up fantasy language. She would have called him a dork and told him to speak English. He would have just smiled, and she would have ended up laughing.

It would have been much better.

She has no idea why all these thoughts are suddenly occurring to her. Maybe it's just God's way of showing her what a horrible person she is. She had a perfectly good boyfriend and the nicest guy in the world, and she gave him up for... For what? For someone who was constantly chasing another girl and who rarely paid her any attention at all except to accuse her of things like being mean and cheating on him. She really is stupid.

Some of their friends show up. Santana and Brittany. Mercedes. Mike and Tina. Two glaringly absent ones are Finn and Rachel, not that she cares in the least. They all go out for coffee and bagels afterward because Sam says he's over pizza. It's fun. She likes all of these people. No one argues or threatens bodily harm or anything, not even Santana. They obviously get along much better in smaller groups than they do as a whole.

She feels happy. She smiles at Sam and bumps his shoulder a little bit when he looks over at her. He smiles back, but he moves away slightly, just an inch or so, but she notices.

She has _no _idea what that's about.

…

"You totally want him back."

She's at the mall with Santana. Brittany's at dance, so it's just the two of them. Just a couple of months ago, this would have been a recipe for disaster, but now they just feel like friends. It's just normal.

"I do not." She's firm in her answer. She doesn't want Sam back. She doesn't. No boys, right?

_Quinndependence._

"Well, I'm sure you can have him if you really want him. He's been like sickeningly into you since he first got here. It's gross, to be honest."

"I don't want him back." She has to repeat it because obviously Santana didn't believe it the first time.

"Well, I don't know why you _would. _I mean... Trust me, it's not that awesome." It's the implication of sex. Or at least something sexual. Something probably more than _she _and Sam have ever done. She shouldn't be surprised in the least because it's _Santana, _but just the idea of it kind of makes her want to hit something. Luckily, she's able to put her focus elsewhere when Santana makes her next statement. "Plus, he's super fucking dumb."

"He is not."

"He has to take special tests." Santana raises her eyebrows and hangs a pair of earrings back on the rack. "He's slow."

"He has dyslexia. He can't help that." And then she realizes she's actually kind of angry. "Don't be a bitch."

And Santana just gives her that look that always seems like she knows more than anyone else. It's irritating as crap.

"He's _nice." _And that should really be all that needs to be said. Sam _is_ nice. Way too nice for Santana and probably way too nice for her, too.

Way too nice for any of them, really.

…

She tries to tell her mother that she doesn't _want _go to Chicago.

It's an entire week spent in sweltering city heat when she could just be at home by the pool hanging out with her friends and being _normal _for once. But her mom doesn't hear any of that. She just gives her some big spill on how church functions are _important _and how she needs to show a little dedication to something now that she's not cheering anymore (apparently the fact that a month ago, she was competing in a national show choir competition has completely escaped her mother), and then she even brings Jesus into it for good measure.

Quinn _really _doesn't think Jesus cares whether or not she spends five nights in a Holiday Inn with a group of kids singing rocked out hymns and telling each other how special they are. But she knows arguing with her mother is essentially pointless.

It's actually not that bad.

They charter a bus to drive down there, and she sits with Sam the whole way. He seems happier about the trip than she does, but when she asks him if he actually _cares _about Christ-Fest 2011, he kind of smirks and just shrugs. He's probably just happy to be going _anywhere, _and she can't really blame him. She can't imagine how tiring it must be to share _one _room with _four _people day in and day out. He even has to share a bed with both the other kids, and it's not hard to see why pretty much _anything _would be a welcome vacation from that.

She falls asleep a couple of hours into the trip and wakes up with her head on his shoulder and feeling more comfortable than she probably has a right to feel. He's got his phone out and is texting someone. It's one of those prepaid phones, and he only randomly has minutes on it. Apparently he had it turned back on before the trip, though, because it very much appears to be working at the moment.

She squints and tries to see who he's texting, but it's impossible to tell from this angle. So she sits up to pop her neck. The second he realizes she's awake, he seems to freak out a little, and he snaps his phone shut and shoves it into his pocket.

"What's with you?" she asks suspiciously.

He looks kind of nervous, which cements the fact that he's doing _something _sneaky that he doesn't want her to know about. But he just shrugs like that's an acceptable answer and then says, "You have... um..." and uses his thumb to wipe away the corner of her eye. It's both disgusting and also disgustingly sweet. And she can't help but remember that telling her about eye gunk was part of the deal he made her with the promise ring.

That seems like ages ago.

…

She doesn't mean to find out.

Honestly. It's not like she _sets out _to spy on him and get into his personal business. But she texts him the next morning to see if he's awake because both of her roommates have already left her to go down to breakfast. She needs someone to eat with, and when he replies and says that he is, she tells him she'll be down in just a second.

His room is two floors below hers, and she spends the short elevator trip reapplying a coat of lipgloss despite the fact that she's done nothing to erase the coat she put on ten minutes earlier. He's all alone in his room, too, because apparently his roommates have abandoned him as well.

His hair's wet, and he's only halfway dressed. She tries really hard not to look at him because his stomach is ridiculous, and that's just about the _last _thing she needs to see right now. He tells her it'll just take him a second to finish up, and he disappears into the bathroom while she sits down on one of the unmade beds and focuses on _The Early Show. _

She's practically startled to death when his phone beeps.

It's lying on the bed behind her, probably exactly where he dropped after she texted him this morning. She shouldn't pay any attention to it. It's not her business. But when she turns around to see where the noise is coming from, she can't help but see the name currently lit up on the screen with the new text indicator.

Why the hell is _Mercedes _texting him at, she glances at the clock on the television, 7:42 in the morning?

There's no way. There's just _no way. _Her hand works before she has time to tell it to stop, and she's grabbing the phone and flipping it open. She doesn't read the newest text because that would be too obvious, but she scrolls down the list of the latest stored messages, and besides her own text to him this morning, there are two from his dad, and... every single other one is from Mercedes.

_Mercedes _is his secret girlfriend?

…

Maybe they're just friends.

That's what she keeps telling herself. Maybe they're just friends who text a lot. But seriously, they're not _that _good of friends. She's barely even seen them _speak _to each other. She's definitely never seen them interact outside of glee.

So it's more than just friends.

She's not sure why that idea makes her so pissed off. It's not like she really has any right to be pissed off about who Sam decides to date or even if he decides to date at _all. _She _doesn't _have that right. She had him, she cheated on him, and he dumped her. Yes, he was, in all actuality, probably the best boyfriend she ever had. He was certainly the nicest and most attentive. He was definitely the only one who wasn't looking at every other girl besides her. But _she's _the one who messed it up.

She's bitchier than she means to be. For the rest of the week, she snaps too much, and the playful easiness between them is kind of blocked a little. He asks her what's wrong, and she lies and says nothing because she honestly feels like _crap _for being even remotely bothered by this.

Mercedes is her _friend. _For awhile, she was her _best _friend. She literally took her in and gave her a place to live when everyone else was judging her and talking behind her back. So basically, being upset that Mercedes actually has a decent boyfriend makes Quinn more of a bitch than even _she _likes to be. But she can't help it. It's not fair.

Sam's supposed to be _hers._

…

"I still want him."

She makes the confession to Santana once she's back in Lima and back by the pool. That's probably mistake number one. Santana's not the best secret keeper, and she will tell anything the second she turns on someone. They're friends now, but if they got in a fight tomorrow, the entire town would know about this conversation by dinnertime. Surprisingly enough, though, Santana doesn't seem shocked or even remotely gossipy. She also doesn't ask for clarification on who the _him _is- she just knows.

When she replies, it's just one word. "Don't."

It should be enough. It basically says everything. Still... "I found out who the secret girlfriend is."

That gets Santana's attention, and she turns her head, looking at Quinn over the top of her oversized sunglasses. "Who?"

"Mercedes."

There's silence, and then Santana lets out a breathy laugh and shakes her head before turning her face back to the sky. "_Don't," _she repeats.

And Quinn _won't. _

But that doesn't mean she's happy about it.

…

_A/N: Dear People Who Write and Fuck Up Glee, please put them back together. Thanks._


End file.
